#paige wright

My name is Paige Wright and that's my stuffed dog over there. He's a good dog, good for nights when the power goes out and the old tree's fingers scratch against my window. He's kept more than one scary creature away, and he's pretty brave for a raggidy old toy I got when I couldn't even walk. It seems like he's always been there through thick and thin and times haven't changed now.

Me and my parents are getting evicted. My mom was the town doctor- Brandy Wright- and she was the best.  My dad, Jeffrey Wright, was a stay at home dad. We were all fine with exactly how things were, bills were paid, toys were bought, and the rural edge of town where we lived had been my home for  almost ten years now. But there was some kind of malpractice suit from someone out of state and she lost her license, our savings lasted us a while but when dad got sick this last summer we couldn't afford his hospital stay and mortgage.

And now we're here. All our belongings strewn out on our front lawn and exposed to the world. It's almost as demeaning as the way the sheriff's deputy keeps looking at me, trying to figure out if I'm legal or just an early bloomer. I'd punch him in the face but I don't think that would help to our growing list of problems. We've already made arrangements to stay with some old friends I don't know and mom and dad promise that they'll figure this out by the time I'm supposed to enroll in college- this fall.